Doris Day was 40 years old when Delbert Mann’s THAT TOUCH OF MINK (1962) premiered, cementing her ridiculous (yet popular) reputation as the “world’s oldest professional virgin.” At this point, she was flourishing in her career within a string of crowd-pleasing sex comedies and rom-coms from the late 1950s that continued into the 1960s. THAT TOUCH OF MINK followed a sure-fire formula with successful films like PILLOW TALK (1959) and LOVER COME BACK (1961), co-starring her good friend Rock Hudson and reliable sidekick, Tony Randall.
Replacing Rock in this take is… wait for it… my favorite dashing hunk of the silver screen, Cary Grant as “Philip Shayne.” Replacing Randall as his second banana here is Gig Young as “Roger.” Replacing Thelma Ritter’s wisecracking maid from PILLOW TALK, or the more subtle spin of Ann B. Davis (yes, Brady Bunch’s family maid “Alice”) as her secretary in LOVER COME BACK, is the wonderfully sardonic roommate, Audrey Meadows, “Connie.” There are more recognizable character actors sprinkled about such as the creepy clerk from the unemployment office, “Everett Beasley” perfectly and hilariously portrayed by John Astin.
Speaking of unemployment, that’s why I’m discussing this film. When Steve over at Movie Movie Blog Blog announced his “Unemployment Blogathon,” I immediately thought of this film. In the opening scene, Doris Day (my favorite actress, in case I failed to mention) as “Cathy Timberlake” makes her way to the unemployment office to file her weekly claim, with a job interview scheduled to follow. While filing her unemployment benefits claim, she runs into persistent obstacles from Beasley’s (John Astin) less than subtle pick up lines and sexual harassment. She thwarts his advances only to later have a long limousine splash her head-to-toe via a large mud puddle, as she waits to cross a busy NYC corner. Nothing makes for a solid first impression on a job interview than being drenched in mud. It’s wealthy business tycoon, Mr. Shayne’s (Cary Grant) limo, and he doesn’t stop.
Frustrated, Cathy vents to her friend and roommate Connie (Audrey Meadows), who works at the automat across the street from Mr. Shayne’s. Spotting Cathy from his office window, Shayne sends his executive assistant Roger (Gig Young) over to apologize on his behalf. As you can imagine, this hands-off approach doesn’t fly with feisty Cathy.
Cathy Timberlake: How would you feel? Here I am, he practically runs me down and then drives right away! And doesn’t have the decency to apologize himself. Furthermore I have a job interview and have to go like this. He doesn’t care.
Cathy Timberlake: You know what I’d like to do?
Roger: Throw the money in his face?
Cathy Timberlake: Exactly! I’d like to throw that money right in his face.
Roger: Would you?
Cathy Timberlake: Yes, I would.
Roger: I’ve waited seven years for this moment. You come with me!
She marches over to give Shayne a piece of her mind, with Roger cheering her on. But with one look at the breathtaking Shayne, her fire has fizzled and she suddenly turns doe-eyed, love-at-first-sight, and weak in the knees.
She proceeds to jet set around with him all day, as she charms his VIP business clientele. Impressed by her beauty as well as her business networking savvy, Shayne proposes a trip to Bermuda. Pretending to be more sophisticated than her “girl from Upper Sandusky” image, Cathy accepts despite her roommate’s discouragement. Things go rocky from there, as Cathy is nowhere near as cosmopolitan as she pretends to be. Certainly, not without a wedding ring first.
A funny scene revolving around unemployment occurs when Cathy lands a job in an office that appears to sort credit card accounts and billing. Her gig doesn’t last for very long. Upon discovery that it really wasn’t her own savvy that secured her position, but rather her Shayne connection, she’s infuriated. Again. In her rage, she randomly starts punching buttons on a huge sorting machine and marches out, unaware of her subsequent damage. In assessing the damage, Philip Shayne: “The Four Horsemen now have a riding companion. There’s War, Famine, Death, Pestilence, and Miss Timberlake!” There are few things more charming than Doris Day on-screen percolating frustration and anger.
You should note that these sex comedies from the 1960s played it safe despite the majority of the plots centered on sex, or the struggles around sex. Films like this were the bubble-gummed twist on an alternative to the ‘free love’ sexual revolution, which was blossoming just around the corner. Also, it may be tough for a modern, woke, #MeToo audience to watch them with today’s perspectives and not be aghast by the overt sexism. But keep in mind, even back then, they knew this was closer to parody than reality. (If you want to read more on this sex comedy sub genre from this era, take a look at my thoughts over at Classic Movie Hub: “Sex Comedies of Sixties”)
As for these caveman-like standards for gender equality, and societal norms for things like pre-marital sex, it’s a movie magic to imagine a vibrant, talented, and intelligent beauty like Doris Day approaching 40 years old playing the virginal, naive “girl” who is intended to be in her early twenties. Even Cathy and Connie’s apartment set-up feels more like a college dorm room, with their twin beds crammed into a shared room. Additionally, Cary Grant was 18 years her senior, and 58 years old when THAT TOUCH OF MINK was released in theaters. But do we notice or care about such glaring age issues? Not with the gorgeous, age-defying likes of Doris Day and Cary Grant. Such pesky truths melt away from the very moment our gaze first greets them.
An essential tool in this film’s charm box is an immaculate sense of style- from the set designs to the stunning wardrobes. The film delights us with a fashion show, too. Three-time Oscar nominee (including for this film) George Milo was the set decorator, and was notable for his work on several Hitchcock classics. The art direction came from two of the best in the industry, Robert Clatworthy (nominated for 4 career Oscars including Hitchcock’s PSYCHO and this film, plus a win) and Alexander Golitzen (nominated for 11 career Oscars, with 4 wins including SPARTACUS). The costume designer was Rosemary Odell, who was contracted to Universal from 1945 to 1967. She was adept in handling a variety of demands as she worked on westerns, noirs, and comedies from over a hundred pictures, including CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON (1954), TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD (1962), and horror-comedies like Abbott and Costello monster flicks.
But here, the gowns and wardrobe pieces are as impeccable as Day and Grant themselves. Doris Day was a standout for her stunning fashions, and there’s no doubt Cary was known as the best dressed man in Hollywood for decades. He took a heavy hand in advising Day on her apparel and contributed his own personal books to enhance the set for key scenes. For example, he was the one who chose her raincoat, from an ad he saw, and arranged to get it in person. He was very meticulous in this regard.
In her autobiography, Doris Day wrote: “Of all the people I performed with, I got to know Cary Grant least of all. He is a completely private person, totally reserved, and there is no way into him. Our relationship on That Touch of Mink (1962) was amicable but devoid of give-and-take…Not that he wasn’t friendly and polite – he certainly was. But distant. Very distant. But very professional – maybe the most professional, exacting actor I ever worked with. In the scenes we played, he concerned himself with every little detail: clothes, sets, production values, the works. Cary even got involved in helping to choose the kind of mink I was slated to wear in the film.” (source: imdb)
The only problem the two faced on set was that each insisted a preference for a right profile for closeups. Cary Grant was the true professional and conceded. Not exactly the warm and fuzzies felt from the on-screen chemistry of leading men like Rock Hudson or James Garner, which better suited Day’s naturally warm and approachable persona behind the scenes.
Meanwhile, Grant assisted Gig Young in preparing for his role by suggesting he play up the neurotic obsessive character akin to Tony Randall’s similar roles, which worked well. Young often played the more serious or romantic types but I enjoyed him so much in this comic bit as Roger that I wish he did more like it. Tragically, Gig Young’s life ended in a murder-suicide with his fifth wife, 31 year-old Kim Schmidt, only 3 weeks after their wedding in 1978. As a big “Honeymooners”‘ fan, Grant rallied to get Audrey Meadows. I’m personally grateful because she’s delightful here as the protective pal with her maternal “honey” catch phrase on a loop.
What does all of this have to do with unemployment? You’ll have to watch the film to see for yourself. Suffice to say, she may have started at the unemployment line, but she landed up getting the job she really wanted. Despite a few items here and there that don’t quite round the bases like PILLOW TALK, Mann’s THAT TOUCH OF MINK still packs an enduring punch with slapstick fare, style and solid performances.
7 thoughts on “THAT TOUCH OF MINK (1962)”
Such a big fave of ours! “Ah, the nuts you pick up on the road” is one of my pet phrases!! Thanks, Ev-rett. LOL 😀
I loved reading your article and chuckled out loud at the memories. Indeed, there is too much in That Touch of Mink to enjoy to be bothered by a little thing like the actor’s birth certificates.
– Caftan Woman
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Thanks so much, Paddy! It’s definitely a fun classic I enjoy revisiting, too!
Sounds like a real hoot! I’m a fan of all involved (including Audrey Meadows, just like Cary Grant was), so I’ll have to check this one out. Thanks so much for contributing this to the blogathon!